


A Housekeeper's Touch

by CNJ



Category: War of the Worlds (TV)
Genre: Gen, Highly Sensitive Persons, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Sleep-Crying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-28 01:56:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16714342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CNJ/pseuds/CNJ
Summary: Ms. Pennyworth offers words of consolation to a crying Suzanne, who is still rather distressed over her former lab assistant Robert Parkins' horrible death.Post-Goliath Is My Name from Season One, Episode Seven. A One-Chapter Story. Complete





	A Housekeeper's Touch

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Suzanne's Uncle Sean is a completely different person than Suzanne's Uncle Hank Wilson the General...just wanted to let you all know, so people don't think I have the two uncles confused.
> 
> In my stories, Suzanne has several aunts and uncles in her life, even if we didn't see them in the series.
> 
> The usual disclaimers that none of the characters that War of the Worlds fans recognize are at all mine, much as I wish dear Suzanne was...I'm just borrowing the characters for a bit of fun.

**Ms.**   **Pennyworth:**

Per usual, I am the first one awake at the Cottage that Saturday morning in November.

I make myself a cup of tea and sit at the kitchen table, watching the sunrise and enjoying the early autumn morning.

After the long week the science crew had vanquishing the Mortaxan aliens on the Ohio Tech University campus, I am glad Harrison Blackwood, Paul Ironhorse, Suzanne McCullough and Norton Drake are getting much-needed sleep.

Especially poor Dr. McCullough was crushed over the death of a former lab assistant of hers, a Robert Parkins, who died a terrible death at the hands of those evil, brutal aliens.

According to Dr. Blackwood, Suzanne couldn't stop crying for hours once she received the news of Robert's death.

Thinking of the motley crew I often cook and do cleaning for brings a smile to my face.

For a about a year, I baby-sat Suzanne's young daughter, Debra...most people call her Debi.

So, of the group, I know Suzanne and Debi the best. I had helped Suzanne and Debi find the small, secure private school in the nearby mountains that Debi now attends.

Suzanne is a wonderful mother and worries lots about her daughter among so many other things in the world.

She's balancing her scientific work as a microbiologist and as a mother to a now-twelve-year-old daughter.

Suzanne is a sweet, intelligent, rather young woman who has gone through some tough times in her life...a divorce from a cheating, manipulative husband, a hard childhood growing up poor with an unstable, distant, alcoholic critical mother and an absent, indifferent father and a string of unstable or abusive stepfathers.

Suzanne had asthma as a child and she and her older brother also had allergies as children, but thankfully, in the university, where she'd won a full scholarship, she outgrew both with the aid of allergy shots.

Escaping an unstable, abusive home environment helped. She blossomed in the university...she actually was able to live with her Aunt Clara and Uncle Sean during her last two years in high school after her brother ran away from home and her mother was found unfit to keep either of the children.

I retired almost fourteen years ago, but this job offers me a supplementary income.

And the Cottage, although close to the city, is in a peaceful, quiet location with lots of lawn, a little lake and a river along with the trees.

There's even a horse stable close by, which delighted Debi, so I offered Debi riding lessons...we still occasionally go riding together since I like horses also. I would love to introduce Suzanne to the pleasures of riding, but she is too afraid of horses.

Sitting quietly by the window, I admire the colorful fall foliage for a while, then wash my cup out and put it away before heading upstairs to see if any of the team is awake and if they want breakfast.

Paul Ironhorse and Suzanne might be up, since they often awaken early, but Harrison and Norton will probably still be asleep since the latter two are the 'night owls.'

I can't help but smile again as I think about Harrison and Norton hashing over scientific theories at two or three in the morning.

Harrison would often ning his tuning fork in contemplation while Norton would chatter away over the latest trackings he's discovered on his computer and the codes he's cracked.

I briefly wonder if Paul is already up and outside jogging.

Paul is an Army Colonel from West Point, so he takes physical fitness and conditioning seriously and jogs rigorously at least three or four mornings a week.

Harrison's and Norton's doors are closed and all is quiet, so I know they are both sleeping, so I don't disturb them.

In fact, I hear Harrison softly snoring, so I know he'll most likely be in a deep sleep for another couple of hours.

Paul is awake and he's just gotten dressed in jogging shorts and a West Point spandex shirt.

He's on the floor lifting weights when I knock and ask what he wants for breakfast.

"Yeah..." He pants a bit, wiping sweat from his black hair and face with a towel. "Two bagels, two fried eggs and three thick ham slices...thank you."

I nod and continue to Suzanne's suite.

It's amusing how Paul is so thin, yet he has an enormous appetite.

As I approach Suzanne's door, I hear soft crying.

Oh, my, I think. I knock a few times, but there is no other response.

Finally, I ease open the door and enter the bedroom. Debi is still sleeping when I check her room.

Suzanne initially appears to be asleep, but as I draw close, I see tears streaming down her face and she is softly sobbing with an occasional keen interspersed with whimpering.

"Suzanne..." I say softly. "Dear...are you all right?"

Suzanne keeps crying and I realize that she is still asleep, but crying in her sleep.

I gently shake her, but she doesn't awaken.

She seems to even cry harder, letting out a soft wailing sound, her thick brows slanting upward at the bridge of her upturned nose.

She's so affected by things, more so than others and often nervous.

Harrison often teases her about being "uptight," but I suspect it's more than simply being "uptight."

She seems to be one of those people who have what was called in my youth "bad nerves" or "delicate nerves."

I also often wonder if what she's been through in her life in addition to her intelligent, compassionate temperament makes her nerves so raw.

Last year, when that alien infiltrated the Cottage and Kensington died saving Norton's life, Suzanne was the one weeping the most and the longest.

This was in addition to being so frightened for Debi, who had been in the Cottage in close proximity; Suzanne's eyes had filled with tears while she and Harrison were waiting outside the Cottage for Norton and Kensington to vanquish the alien and for Paul to re-gain entry.

Suzanne shakes a little and lets out another keening wail as her lips tighten, her brows still slanted in her distress.

"Suzanne, darling..." I rock her shoulder gently.

She still doesn't awaken, even though her large eyes come partially open.

So, I sit on her bed, lift her slowly and pull her into my lap, wiping her tear-streaked face and stroking her long, thick, straight, dark brown hair, whispering soothing words to her.

Her shivering lessens and I am relieved when she slowly awakens, her tear-filled, swollen, bloodshot, red-rimmed eyes coming into focus.

Her eyes widen a bit and she's slightly startled to find me holding her.

"Good morning, dear," I whisper.

"Mrs. Pennyworth?" Suzanne's crying has slowed. "I'm...I'm..."

I hand her another tissue. She takes the tissue and blows her nose, her brows trying to relax.

I can see tense little lines in the middle of her forehead beneath her bangs.

Some of her tears have leaked onto her white long T-shirt.

"Nightmare?" I ask, stroking her back.

Suzanne nods, a few stray tears still trickling down her face.

Her eyes, normally a deep brown, are now gray-ish and a bit troubled-looking.

It's something I recently noticed...her eyes change to gray when she's sad or frightened.

"Thanks..." Suzanne's voice is so soft that I barely hear it.

"Still upset about Parkins?" I ask.

Suzanne nods again, grabbing another tissue. "In the d-dream, I was c-coming back to the lab here and s-saw his...m-mangled body..."

She sniffles and blows her nose. "Damn...I hope I won't spend the weekend crying...as it is, I have a feeling I'll be spending a lot of nights in tears, even in my sleep."

"Give yourself time to mourn," I say gently. "You suffered a loss."

I hold her for a while...so like my own long-grown daughter.

After Suzanne lets a few more tears out, I gently ask if she'd like a spot of breakfast and what she'd like.

"Tea and a bagel are fine," she tells me, finally beginning to recover from her tears and her nightmare.

I'm tempted to try to talk her into eating a bit more, since she's rather short and a bit too skinny, but decide that her stomach may still feel upset, so I don't push it.

"Mom...?" Debi appears in the doorway. "Hi, Mrs. Pennyworth."

"Good morning," I greet her and wave her in and give her a hug.

"Are you okay, Mom?" Debi asks, her blue eyes wide with concern.

"Sure...I will be...just a nightmare," Suzanne strokes her daughter's long, straight blond hair.

It's good to see a smile, albeit a weak, brief smile, on Suzanne's face.

If anyone can bring a smile to her sweet face, it's her daughter.

"Are you still upset about your lab friend?" Debi asks.

"A little...but I'm beginning to feel better," Suzanne puts an arm around Debi. "Thanks for asking, sweetie. Are you ready to eat?"

Debi nods and we head downstairs.

I smile at the mother-daughter pair and am happy to have them in my life.

 

_Storyline_   _Copyright_   _2018_ _by_   _CNJ_  


End file.
